


silencer

by washingmachineheart (orphan_account)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, F/M, Just angst, One Shot, Other, That's it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:09:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24085642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/washingmachineheart
Summary: Marinette understands that perhaps love isn't always what she thought it would be.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	silencer

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: this fic is just what it is and i dont hate adrien or adrienette. i am just sad and angsty

**_There are many things that I_ **

**_Would like to say to you_ **

**_But I don’t know how_ **

****

- **Wonderwall,** ** _Oasis_**

  
  
  
  
  


“I guess what I’m trying to say is – I think I just  _ love _ you, you know?”

The Couffaine houseboat never stood still, but Marinette was sure her feet were planted firmly onto the ground. Her own hot breath, grazing itself against her chin. Each exhale releasing possibly everything she thought she had ever felt in her lifetime.

This was it.

This was the moment everyone had been waiting for. This was supposed to be the part where Luka would look at her with equally adoring eyes, and brush his fingers across her face. This was the part where he would say “I love you too.”

Alya and the rest had guaranteed it.

But none of that was happening.

His brown eyes – golden under the Parisian sun – seemed to have dimmed at the word “love.” Almost as if in an instant it had turned into libel, the passageways of his mind that his eyes usually exposed suddenly closed.

“Love?” He repeated, as he suddenly stood up from the worn and wooden chair she had gotten used to seeing him on. She was beginning to realize the movements he made were deathly silent.

Like he was a ghost to the home that smelled so much like him.

Luka picked up the acoustic guitar that lay next to the keyboard, his painted nails gripping its fragile spine.

“You love me?” He said, his back still turned to her. The guitar was being held more tenderly now, as if it contained his entire life force within it.

“I.. I think so,” Marinette stuttered.  _ Fuck. _

_ This wasn’t the plan. _

__

_ This was not supposed to happen. _

__

“Ma-ma-ma-Marinette,” Luka mumbled, his tongue clicking onto the bridge of his gums that each mention of  _ ma  _ felt like a stab to the neck. He strummed a few chords, the notes released flat and devoid of emotion.

Not even Luka knew what song could be used to describe what he was honestly feeling.

“You love me?” He repeated, strumming more foreign notes she couldn’t recognize.

“Yes.” She had meant to sound more firm, but the very word slipped out like a cry of desperation.

“To be honest, Marinette – I don’t think you know what love really means.”

“What?”

“It’s what it is, Marinette.” He had finally turned around, the expression on his face she could only describe as a mix of exhaustion and hurt.

“I thought…”

“Thought what?”

“I thought… that you might love me back.”

_ “Oh my god.”  _ The worn guitar slipped out of his fingers, leaving them trembling and empty. “You think I’m like this because I don’t love you? Marinette, I do. I fucking love you.”

He was gripping her shoulders now, their faces millimetres in proximity. The softness of his usual expression had waned away for the first time, replaced with someone that she failed to pay attention to.

“You have no idea,” he breathed, each one he took heavy and full of effort, “how lucky I was to be able to love you.

“But I understand now. I understand and I accept it.” He let go, and the world before her suddenly seemed like it was spinning.

“Understand...what?” She whispered, so quietly that he could have pretended that he didn’t hear it.

“That no matter how much I can love you – there is just no way you could do the same for me.”

_ “Luka.”  _ She knew she sounded pathetic, her voice cracking itself into little pieces the more she tried to speak.

His back was turned to her once more, and this time he picked up the large keyboard case that had warmly welcomed Adrien with on his houseboat for the first time.

He said nothing as his knees found the wooden flooring, opening the large black case. The keys that spanned across it shone, the added buttons and mechanisms resting above it like lights on a changing room mirror. The magnets coated it with a sharp  _ click,  _ concealing it from the rest of the world. 

He faced her again and handed her the case.

“Tell him it’s a gift from everyone,” he smiled, with no hint of happiness lying in it. “No one on this boat used this till he came to play for us, anyway.”

“Luka….”

“Maybe in another life, Marinette. Maybe in another life it didn’t have to be this hard for either of us. Maybe in another life you could really love me.”

_ “I still could,”  _ she spat, the tears spilling itself out of her system. She had never felt more pathetic than she did right there, the guilt of having misjudged him all this time weighing on her frail shoulders.

“I swear I could. I know I was stupid, Luka, I know. I shouldn’t have treated you how I have, and I’m sorry. But we could make up for lost time, please - ”

Another empty smile interrupts her, the soft hands she had the privilege of once being wrapped around in hardened as they wrapped into fists.

For a moment they said nothing, the silence between the two of them making the most noise. For the first time, neither of them had anything to say to each other.

“Thank you for being my new song,” he whispered. Luka’s black nails wrapped in a fist found its way on his chest right next to his heart. “It was nice while it lasted.”

__


End file.
